The Turnaround Treasure Shop

by Jennie Jones

The boy shrugged. ‘Walked.’

  ‘But I was at your house early this morning. You could have come with us.’

  ‘I wasn’t up.’ Another shoulder shrug. ‘Mum said last night that I should come and pick up the bike.’ He nodded to the corner of the workshop where his sister’s bicycle leaned against a stable door. All fixed. ‘I forgot this morning. Sorry.’

  ‘That’s okay.’

  Nick had been planning on taking the bike to Lily’s house this afternoon. Around the time she’d be finishing work. He didn’t see why she shouldn’t have a lift home, but he also understood why she’d asked her son to come collect the bike. Pride.

  ‘You’re just in time,’ he told Andy. ‘About to start work on your car.’ If the boy’s interest in mechanics was as high as Nick thought, he might be able to persuade Andy to stay a couple of hours. Then give him, the bike and Lily a lift home.

  ‘I love your knives.’ Andy spied the knives laid out on the workbench and bent over them, hands clenched behind his back. Obviously desperate to touch them.

  ‘I’ve just put an edge on those,’ Nick told him. ‘They’re much sharper than shop bought knives. Just so you know.’ He wandered over and picked up a drop-point hunter. ‘This one is going to a fisherman in Italy.’ His paring and peeling knives were doing well in and around town, but his drop-point hunters sold all over the world.

  ‘How many hours to make it?’

  ‘A few.’ Like around 20. ‘That’s why they sell for a high price. Handmade, custom-made. As the client wants them. Mostly.’ Nick had his signature blades and his way of crafting them. Occasionally he put together an artistic blade, not meant for use, just for cabinet display.

  ‘Mum loves the knives you made for Kookaburra’s. She said they’re the best she’s ever used. Ever.’

  ‘Your mum cooks there sometimes, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah. Dan’s there all the time, but Charlotte only does mornings. Her pastry chef stuff.’

  Nick nodded. ‘She’d got a child to look after.’

  ‘Olivia goes to the child-care centre in the mornings.’

  There’d been a baby-rush since Nick arrived in town, prompting an upgrade of the child-care centre Sammy Granger had established in a building next to the Town Hall. Swallow’s Fall’s population had gone a few over the 100 mark that year and the town had held a street party. Ethan Granger had made a brand new population sign, now swinging on a post at the southern entrance to Main Street, by the yellow house that used to be a B&B. Dan and Charlotte Bradford’s house.

  There were smart people in Swallow’s Fall. Talented people. Nick admired Ethan Granger’s work as a carpenter, although being the local vet, Ethan did it in his spare time. Dan Bradford, Nick’s running partner, was not only a savvy businessman but a draughtsman and builder.

  Nick’s knife-making had been a hobby since childhood and he’d intended to concentrate on growing it as a full-time business from his hideaway in Swallow’s Fall but he found himself encouraged by all this Swallow’s Fall smartness to offer a second business: machine and engine repairs. Cars, tractors, ride-on lawn mowers, whatever needed fixing. He had no need of a regular income because he had savings, a Navy pension and an inheritance from his father. More importantly — after the first six months in town, he needed something to keep his hands and his brain occupied.

  ‘How’s your mum?’ he asked Andy, then curled his fingers into the palms of his hands. Silly question. He’d just seen Andy’s mum this morning.

  ‘My mum?’ Andy frowned. ‘She’s fine. Wasn’t she fine when you dropped her off at work?’

  Nick laughed. ‘Yeah, sorry. I was thinking more about how she’s been coping without the car.’

  ‘Doesn’t worry her. Nothing worries Mum.’

  ‘Really?’ Nick made a quick evaluation. Of course Lily wouldn’t let her children know how hard life might sometimes be. She’d hide that from them.

  ‘She’s fun,’ Andy said. ‘She makes us laugh.’

  ‘Does she?’ Nick’s smile warmed his mouth. Lily made life fun for her kids? ‘How?’

  Andy guffawed. ‘Because she’s mad. Like real crazy sometimes. She’ll be cooking dinner, or working on her furniture stuff then suddenly a favourite song will come on the radio and she’ll turn the volume up real loud — like, head-banging loud.’ Andy’s grin was so big it told Nick the boy loved this zany, uncontrolled side of his mum. ‘And she’ll dance around the house.’ Andy shook his head. ‘She’s mad.’

  She’s beautiful. Nick didn’t voice that out loud. ‘She sounds like a cool mum.’

  ‘She says dancing releases the happy hormones.’ Andy stepped back and looked momentarily embarrassed about what he’d said. ‘Not that I do any dancing.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Nick gave an understanding shake of his head while the vision of a younger Andy holding hands with his mother as she danced him around the house came clearly to his mind. The little boy laughing and enjoying himself. ‘I bet your sister likes it though. Women like dancing and stuff.’

  ‘Yeah, bullshit stuff.’ Andy blushed. The way he’d pronounced the semi-swearword, like he was enjoying the taste of it in his mouth, like he felt grownup when he said it told Nick the kid had a lot to hide and was feeling his way to manhood. Still nervous and unsure but nearly ready to buck the bronco.

  ‘Yeah,’ Nick said in an off-hand way. ‘Bullshit stuff. But whatever makes them happy, eh?’ He turned to the car, taking the attention off Andy.

  The kid watched him for a few minutes. He asked a couple of questions, which Nick answered, giving the further explanations of what he thought might be wrong with the fuel pump and what needed to be done.

  ‘I was thinking about something, Nick, and I’d like to run it by you.’

  ‘Sure.’ Nick picked up a rag and wiped his hands.

  ‘It’s about Mum.’

  Nick’s heartbeat kicked up. ‘What about her?’ He tilted his weight to his hip and studied Andy in what he hoped showed a man-to-man interest, not a man-wants-your-mother interest.

  ‘She hasn’t got much.’

  Nick nodded and waited.

  ‘And I think she’s worked hard for me and Janie-Louise and we’d like her to be happy, so do you think…’

  Nick cleared his throat and did his best to keep his focus on the kid. If Andy was about to suggest Nick helped his mum towards a little happiness in life — like dating-happiness — he wasn’t sure how he’d answer. Surely the kid wasn’t going to—

  ‘Do you think I should leave school early and get a job?’

  The relief in Nick’s chest turned to a ball of pride in an instant.

  ‘I could earn money,’ Andy said. ‘And then Mum could get her shop.’

  ‘What shop?’ he asked, trying not to let the emotion fill his throat. The boy wanted to earn money in order that his mad, crazy, laughter-making, dancing mother had a happy life.

  ‘The shop on the corner. The one she cleans. She wants to lease it and open up a second-hand knick-knack shop.’

  Lily had a dream? Lily was working towards something other than keeping her children fed and clothed and schooled?

  Andy was frowning now. ‘You know, the shop she cleans.’

  ‘I know the one. She wants to run it?’

  ‘She calls it her impossible dream.’

  The most beautiful woman in the world had an impossible dream. Nick fought his sensory reactions: wonder, and maybe a hint of sadness that life had put Lily in a position of having to fight for everything she needed. ‘So you think leaving school early and getting a low paid job is going to help?’ he asked.

  ‘Well. It would, wouldn’t it?’

  Nick shook his head, careful to make it a measured move. ‘No. What you need to do is finish school and go to college. What you need to do, Andrew, is plan for your future. A great future as an ace machinist. That’s what will make your mum happy, believe me.’

  Andy blinked a number of times, mouth pursed in thought. ‘That
is what I want.’

  ‘So go get it.’

  ‘I just want to help Mum out a bit. Now.’

  Nick hooked the rag onto the car bonnet. ‘How old are you?’

  Andy straightened, as Nick had. ‘I’ll be 15 in six months.’

  ‘Heading into the last two years of high school.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘So you’ll have a lot of homework and study on your plate, but if you’re keen to work, I could use a hand one day a week. Say on Sundays? I’d pay you. Fifteen bucks an hour.’

  Andy’s eyes widened. ‘Fifteen bucks? That’s way above what any kid I know earns.’

  ‘Well, you’re not any kid, and you’re working in a remote and rural setting. You get additional monetary compensation for that.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Let’s start at four hours every Sunday, then work it up to six or seven hours if your study isn’t affected.’

  Nick could see the kid calculating his earnings in his head. ‘I could give it to Mum.’

  Nick shook his head again. ‘No, Andrew. You could try to give some to your mum, maybe quarter of it, but you know your mum won’t take your money, don’t you?’

  Andy nodded acceptance of this truth. ‘I was working every Saturday at the agricultural museum, but they don’t charge entry for that so I wasn’t really needed because people can just wander in and out whenever they like. I knew they were only giving me the job to help me out. Felt bad about it, so I resigned.’

  Nick held onto his smile. A man-boy at the age of 14 had resigned a paying job for the good of his town. ‘Well I could use your skills, Andrew. And I’m in a position to pay you. So long as it doesn’t interfere with your school work.’

  ‘It wouldn’t. Everybody in school has a weekend job, or an evening job. There just isn’t enough work around Swallow’s Fall for me to get one. And I can’t keep getting the bus into Cooma for a job because it would cost me time and bus fare.’

  Nick knew the school bus went from town into Cooma and back every day, but he hadn’t thought about how much it might cost. It might be subsidised by the government or the schools. Nick didn’t know, but if any kid in Swallow’s Fall wanted to get a job, most of them would have to travel to get it. Which would cost.

  He put the stirrings of a thought about this behind him. He’d need to find out how it all worked before he offered assistance. ‘So how about it?’ he said to Andy. ‘Have we got a deal? I think the work you do for me might be counted towards your college education too. I think they refer to them as experience units.’

  Andy might not have heard, he appeared to be pondering something. ‘Maybe Mum’ll let me pay for the internet bill each month,’ he said. ‘I kind of need it, you know — with wanting to be a machinist.’

  Not to mention everyday school homework. And what was this? Christ, Lily couldn’t afford to pay the internet bill? ‘You’ve got a computer at home?’

  ‘Yeah. The old and slow kind though.’ Andy laughed. ‘Maybe I could save up for a new one now. Mum could have the old one for her shop, when she gets it.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  Andy held his hand out. ‘Thank you very much, Nick.’

  Nick took his hand and they shared a firm, grown-man handshake.

  ‘I’ll be giving money to Mum anyway,’ Andy said. ‘Whether she wants it or not.’

  Nick’s heart clutched. A man could grow to love kids like Lily’s.

  Chapter 5

  Lunch fray over, Lily was in the kitchen helping to prepare for the evening meals and had undergone a much needed, self-admonished dressing-down about her attitude earlier this morning.

  What ridiculous notions crossed a woman’s mind when a man gave her a look. Looks meant nothing. They’d hardly spoken over the last year, since the zing moment at the Bunny Ball. Why would Nick suddenly want to start looking at Lily? Of course he’d given her a look back at the house. A look that said, ‘By, God — there’s a near-naked women in front of me.’ Not a look that necessarily said, ‘I’d like to do things with that near-naked woman standing in front of me.’

  She thumped the wad of chilled pastry she’d taken out of the fridge onto a floured surface to her side and dragged a board of diced vegetables towards her.

  ‘Hey, watch it with my shortcrust.’

  Lily swiped her brow with the back of her hand. ‘Sorry. I was miles away.’

  ‘Where?’ Charlotte asked. ‘In the back seat of a certain silver ute?’ She sniggered as she turned back to Olivia, who was sitting in her highchair eating and playing with a freshly baked cookie.

  Lily felt herself blush.

  ‘Yeah, what’s with that?’ Dan asked, putting down a small keg of Marsala he’d brought in from the corridor storeroom. ‘I saw you come into town in Nick’s ute.’

  ‘Dan!’ Charlotte said, wiping Olivia’s hands with a damp cloth before handing the toddler some plastic cookie cutters to play with. Some afternoons, when Charlotte had a lot of baking to do, she brought her strawberry-blonde daughter to work.

  ‘What?’ Dan asked. ‘Can’t a guy ask a question?’

  Charlotte grimaced. ‘Timing, darling. Timing.’

  ‘But you just asked — why can’t I?’

  ‘Okay!’ Lily said in exasperation. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I can’t say,’ Dan said at the same time Charlotte said, ‘Nothing.’

  Dan grabbed Charlotte around the waist and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘So it’s all still a secret?’

  ‘Is what still a secret?’ Lily asked, her tone telling anyone within earshot that there’d been a rise in her exasperation.

  ‘Nothing,’ Charlotte said again, then aimed a pointed finger at her husband. ‘Be careful, Hotshot. Unless you want a repeat of the hammer-grip manoeuvre I showed you this morning.’ She thrust her finger into Dan’s chest and shoved him away, laughing.

  Lily adored Charlotte’s attitude. Her beautiful red hair went with her spirit. Prickly, according to Dan which always made Charlotte smile, especially when Dan called her Red — his personal nickname for his wife. But Lily knew Charlotte well, and her occasional prickliness was a cover-up for her sometimes shy but always generous nature.

  Dan’s smile widened and the sensuality in his eyes deepened. ‘Anytime, Red.’ Something hot and passionate had just passed between her bosses. Something sexy and personal. Some ‘thing’ Lily didn’t want to think any more about since she wasn’t getting that sexy thing, and probably never would. Except from books. Or the pictures that kept popping into her head.

  Dan backed away from his wife, palms up in surrender mode, his smile now bordering on a laugh. ‘You can get me in that hold anytime. Just not now. I’m going for a run.’

  ‘Don’t wear yourself out,’ Charlotte said. ‘I might have plans for you later.’

  Lily’s insides melted. Theirs was a beautiful marriage. Three years into their life together, one gorgeous daughter, a yellow weatherboard house at the northern end of Main Street, and a thriving business in Kookaburra’s.

  Dan kissed the top of Olivia’s head and she beamed up him, going all gooey-eyed at her handsome daddy and offering him her rolling pin.

  Once Kookaburra’s opened up as a full-blown hotel two years ago the town had prospered and the unemployment rate had dropped. But the Bradford’s were careful with their generosity. Charlotte had explained to Lily that they wanted to help but did not, under any circumstances, want to be viewed as officious and pre-emptive regarding their monetary donations.

  Sammy and Ethan Granger were the same. They ran a large spread on Burra Burra Lane and Ethan had employed some of the mothers in Swallow’s Fall as horse riding instructors and their children as stablehands. Ethan still kept the young people in mind, catering two half-days a week in school holidays to teaching them carpentry. Sammy ran an art class twice a week for anyone who wanted to learn how to draw or paint. Children, mainly, but some of the older residents had participated and seeing how much they enjoyed the ‘o
ldies get-together’ — their terminology — this class had now evolved into a weekly luncheon event at the Town Hall. Sammy’s son, Lochie, seemed to be taking after his mother with his artistic talents and always had coloured pencils and a drawing pad in his hands. Little Edie was too young to be showing any artistic talents yet, but she always had fat crayons and scrap paper around too.

  Many, many times, Lily thanked the universal deities for returning her and her children to the safety and comfort of Swallow’s Fall.

  ‘So. Where’s your life heading, Lily?’

  Lily looked up from the carrots she was now chopping for the lunchtime pasties and focussed on Charlotte who dipped her hands into a bag of flour and threw a handful over her work surface, preparing to make a batch of scones for an afternoon tea party in the restaurant.

  ‘Probably to the library, once I finish these pasties.’

  Charlotte threw her a knowing smile, which Lily returned. They were alone in the kitchen, apart from Olivia who was now intently rolling uncooked pastry on the table of her high chair with her rolling pin, and it looked like Charlotte wanted to spend some quality girlfriend time, as she was want to call the moments when they chatted about woman stuff. Like children, lipstick colours, any new products in the beauty parlour — or to renew the old conversation. Lily wasn’t fooled by the casualness of Charlotte’s remark. They’d had the old conversation many times, with Lily closing it as she always did: by being non-committal.

  ‘I meant,’ Charlotte said, breaking butter into her bowl of flour and crumbling the mixture between her fingertips, ‘as in for the rest of your life.’

  ‘I’ll probably grow old like all of us.’

  ‘Old and alone,’ Charlotte said, eyebrows raised to you-know-I-won’t-let-this-go height.

  ‘I’m not headed anywhere in particular, as you very well know,’ Lily said. ‘I’m happy looking after myself and my kids.’

  ‘Don’t you sometimes dream of being swept away in a guy’s embrace? Danced around the room until your toes don’t touch the floor.’

  ‘You’ve been reading the kissing books from the library.’ Lily put her finely chopped carrots to one side and grabbed a sack of potatoes off the floor.